


Day Fifteen: In a Different Style of Clothing (AKA "We are Not Sleeping on that Bed.")

by a_xmasmurder



Series: 30 Days of OTP: Bond/Q [15]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Body adoration, Dirty Talk, Falling In Love, Last Part, M/M, Pyjamas, Shower Sex, Turned into a Three-Parter, Two-parter, shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:46:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_xmasmurder/pseuds/a_xmasmurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part Three of Three. Continuation of yesterday. Shower sex again, and cherries and maybe finishing Avengers. Q has a worry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day Fifteen: In a Different Style of Clothing (AKA "We are Not Sleeping on that Bed.")

**Author's Note:**

> DONE WITH THE NIGHT!!!! *headdesk*
> 
> I make no apologies, and I have no regrets.

When he finally came back to himself, James was lying next to him, stroking his shoulder with tacky fingers. Q rolled to his side. “Where’s -”

“Closed and set aside. I probably wouldn’t use them for food again.”

Q’s smile scrawled lazily across his face. “Hadn’t planned on it. Are we done with them?”

Bond leaned forward and sucked a mark on his chest, below his collarbone, and Q groaned, his body already taking an renewed interest in the proceedings. “I believe so. Shower?” The agent’s cock, still hard, pressed up against his thigh.

“Yes, a shower would be lovely.” Q pushed himself to a sitting position and swung his legs down to the floor. Getting up, though, was a sticky and rather uncomfortable experience. “Ah, James?”

Bond chuckled. “Yeah. Messy as hell.”

“Let’s not do this again.”

The chuckles turned into full blown laughs. “I thought you wanted to do it again?”

“I did?” Q thought back to...oh. “Yes, well, that was before everything started...congealing.” He grimaced and helped James to his feet. “Now, it’s a bit gross.” He glanced down. “Do you need me to - “

“I’ve got a plan. Now, into the bathroom with you.” James swatted at his arse and pushed to his feet. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Q turned enough to watch Bond swipe up the Walther lying on the small bedside table the hacker had bought for that reason only: a way for the man to have his weapon near him if he slept over. It’s the least he could do for James.

********   
  
  
  
  


Bond felt everything below his hips throb in want when he padded into the bathroom after checking the flat and saw his Quartermaster leaning into the shower stall to test the water temperature. His pale skin bore marks really well. Bond imagined if he looked close enough, he would be able to find fingerprints on Q’s lovely hips. _Good Lord.._.He didn’t even pause, he moved straight on until he reached Q, removing the glasses the man had slipped on to find the bathroom in the first place to place them on the counter, then placed Q right next to them so he could kiss the living hell out of those too-sweet lips. Despite coming only a short time earlier, Q responded quickly, squirming closer and pressing his stomach against Bond’s aching cock and licking into Bond’s mouth and all around trying to drive him into an early grave. James growled deep in his chest and wrapped his arms around Q’s upper torso, marveling at how he could nearly grab his elbows.

“Pasta, Q. I’m feeding you pastas.”

“Oh, God, not this again.” Bond could feel his smile, though. “I told you, I don’t need to eat. Though I’ll be happy to suck you until you come down my throat again.”

“Yes. Oh, bloody hell yes. You are going to give me a Pavlovian response to your shower.” James leaned forward and bit at Q’s neck, marking the skin there, too. “Get in.”

“Was trying that before you decided I was a rag doll - Oof!”

James picked him back up and carried him into the hot spray of the shower head, muttering in his ear the whole time, little nonsense words that Q’s heard before from him, but with a hunger that turned the small fire in his gut into a conflagration. Instead of making good on some of the promises he made, though, he let Q slide down the brown tile wall and settle his feet on the floor so he could grab the body wash from the floor of the shower stall. Belatedly, Q shut the door, and the steam immediately started filling the cubicle. Bond pulled him close against his body as he ran soapy hands up and down his back and rear, cleaning the sticky honey and lubricant residue away and filling the stall with the bright scent of Old Spice.

“Still can’t believe you actually like this stuff,” he murmured into Q’s ear.

“I refuse to get the fancy soaps you seem to enjoy.” James could feel Q gasp as he bit at the hacker's earlobe, enough to nip a red mark on the skin. “Shit.”

This time, Bond was the one to drop to his knees, one popping rather loudly. It didn't feel horrible, but it did make Q wince. He smirked up at him. “Don’t say anything, you are much younger than me.”

Q snorted. “Not that much - oh, damn.” Instead of a mouth, he felt Bond’s soapy hand sliding between his legs, holding and stroking him, rolling his balls softly in his palm as he washed them, and pressing against the insides of his thighs. “You are - _oh_ \- making it very hard not to - _ohgod_ \- think that you are - James, _f-f-fucking hell_!” One finger found its way to his arsehole and was circling, surely to clean, but Q’s body had other ideas, his hips rolling back and pushing against the digit.

“And you keep a bottle of lube in the shower,” Bond muttered.

It took a moment to parse that sentence, then Q blushed. “I...uh, well...ideas. After the first time.”

Bond looked up at him and licked his lips. “Let me wash off, then we’ll make good on those ideas...” He trailed off as he looked down at the floor. His hands fell away from Q’s prick and arse, making the younger man groan. “Ducks?”

Q skin flushed red, even redder than what the water was doing. “That’s the only design they had left for the non-slip stickers,” he muttered in defence of the pale cream ducks on the floor.

Bond planted his hands on his knees and pushed to his feet. “Non-slip stickers.”

“I, for one, do not want a broken skull while getting buggered in my own shower. If you hadn’t noticed, this is real stone tile.”

Q breathed deeply as he watched Bond wash himself down. The man let out a guttural moan when he soaped up his cock to get rid of the honey, but when Q reached out to touch, Bond shook his head. “No, don’t. Bad enough I have to deal with this, don’t need your brilliant hands on me too. I won’t get to try out one of your ideas, then.”

Q blushed even more, and cursed himself for being a bit shy. _Why the hell am I being shy?_

_Because you are usually the one doing the fucking, and all of a sudden this Adonis of a man comes along and you are spreading your legs like a good little slut. And you LOVE IT. He treats you like a god half the time, and the other half you are kind of his boss and he treats you like an equal. Face it, you are falling in love with the man._

Bond reached for the lube, and Q gasped in a deep breath as the muscles in his torso twisted and stretched. He licked his lips and blinked at the water falling on his head and into his face.

_Oh, fuck. You’re not falling. You’ve already hit the ground, you idiot._

“Bond?” He didn’t like the sudden...questioning tone his voice had taken, but it couldn’t be helped. He was no longer sure he could keep this up.

The man looked up, a strange look passing over his face. “You good?”

Q took a breath, and nodded. “Yes.”

Bond nodded back, and suddenly he was there, pressing Q’s shoulders against the cool tile, his lower back shielded from the knobs by the agent’s thick arm as he devoured Q’s mouth with a hunger that made his knees weak and his brain go offline for the duration. When they came back up for air, Bond stared down at him with slivers of silver in his eyes. “It’s going to be quick. Is that alright?”

Q was brought back to their first time in this very shower, him on his knees and asking the agent - now steady lover - boyfriend -  _FUCK he didn’t even know anymore_ \- the same thing. Q tried to get in a breath to speak, but his lungs weren’t cooperating very well. He nodded.

“Thank you.”

Q blinked at that. _Why is he thanking me_? “Uh...”

Bond pressed a finger to Q’s lips, silencing his question as he lifted Q, as he motioned him to wrap his legs around his waist. Q’s prick bounced against Bond’s stomach. “Shh. Trust me.”

 _That’s the problem. I do._ “Alright.” James snapped the lid on the lube, squeezed some on his fingers, and worked Q open again, though he didn’t need much prep - then his slick cock was where his fingers were, pressing against, pushing...” _Oooooh_ , Bond, _fuck me already_ damn it!” Then Bond pushed his hips up while dropping Q’s weight and he was in, filling Q completely and utterly and so perfectly the hacker could do nothing but mewl and roll his head against the tile. He desperately wanted to grab something as James set a punishing pace, as lust-drunk and desperate to come as Q was - again! - but all he could reach was either James’s neck or the shower head. Trying to think of how much repairs would cost if he were to rip the fucking thing out of the wall was hard when he was filled with a thick cock and wrapped in strong arms and had a deep voice growling half-words in his ear. _Fuck it._ He reached up and hooked his hands around the metal fixture and pulled up, testing the structure- _perfect, didn’t move, so brilliant_ \- and growled back at Bond as he trusted his full weight to the shower head and started fucking himself as the man rammed into him. Bond stared at him, wild eyed, and nodded, moving his hands until they were gripping Q’s hips, and started fucking into him even harder, faster, and Q could almost hear a higher pitched whining coming from the man as his rhythm disintegrated, stuttered, and ground to a halt as he shouted and buried his face into the sharp V of Q’s bunched shoulder. The hacker could feel James’s cock twitching and throbbing inside of him, emptying himself into Q, and the feeling was almost enough to set him off. Q blinked once, twice, tried to breath, tried to bring himself down...but then James’s hand was on him and his hips were moving once more, his cock still hard inside him and his muscles still twitching through the aftershocks of what felt like a stunning orgasm. His head stayed where it was, and Q could hear him moaning and panting into his skin.

“God, come for me, Q, come for me _now, please,_ want you to, _need you_ , need to feel you come around me, _come on_...”

The pleading litany of words combined with the dual attack of the hand on his cock and James’s cock in his arse took his brain on a spiraling ride that ended with an orgasm that blew the first out of the water, splitting his consciousness in half and setting a nuke off in his nervous system. _Blacking out must be a thing, now,_ Q thought just before his eyes slammed shut.

********   
  
  
  
  


He was sitting on the cold tile floor outside of the shower, a fluffy toweling robe wrapped around him. James was next to him, holding the root beer schnapps in both hands, a towel wrapped around his waist and a slightly bloody bandage on his side - oh shit...

“Don’t tell me you tore it open.”

Bond’s head snapped up and he turned to look at Q. “Welcome back, love. And no. Your leg bumped up against it, and ripped one of the stitches. It’s okay, though, because I made you scream.” He said the last bit with a shit-eating grin on his face, one that Q couldn’t help but mirror.

“Did you, now?”

“Twice.”

“Oh?” Q cocked his head. “That makes up for the quivering mess I turned you into with that vibrator, yes?”

Bond actually blushed. “A bit.”

Q pushed to his feet, still a bit shaky. “I’ll take pity on you, but we will be bringing that back into play, and soon. I don’t normally...” _Let myself get fucked quite so thoroughly all the time, I’m an alpha male as much as you and Alec are._ Q blinked. _Oh, shut up, brain, for once._

“It’s fine. Neither do I. Learning experience all around.” Bond’s grin softened, and he made his way to his feet as well. “I brought pyjamas in here so that we wouldn’t have to go out there naked.”

As they dressed, Q stopped to wonder when James had the time to actually bring some of his clothes over to _his_ flat. Not surprisingly, he had a t-shirt and bottoms. Common sense when you might have to get up at any time for any reason, up to and including someone attempting to murder you. He winced as he lifted his leg into his own stripy bottoms, a not-so-subtle reminder of the fantastic fuck he’d gotten. And yeah. He did love it. He just wasn’t sure if falling in love with a Double Oh was such a good idea. He wanted to brush his teeth, but couldn’t be arsed to do it. Apparently, neither could James, because he lead Q out of the bathroom and over to the closet, where Q gathered a replacement comforter. They then turned to the bed, and the absolute mess of the bed they’d made, chocolate and honey everywhere, and lube...

“Um, no.” Q shook his head.

“I’ll get on it first thing tomorrow.” James walked over and snatched the box of cherries off the bed. “Do I get to hand feed you these until we fall asleep?”

Q was going to say no, but his stomach had other ideas. It growled loudly, making the two men laugh. “I guess that is a yes?”

“I suppose so!”

James smiled. “Then to the couch with you. And we will finish The Avengers.”

“And the bottle of schnapps.”

“Yes.”

Q followed the agent out of the room.

_I could get used to this, actually._

****  
  


 


End file.
